


The Seemingly Insignificant Dirty Little Secret

by phoenix089



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century, bondlock - Fandom
Genre: And John? John just always seems to be stuck in the middle of it all, Bond is an incorrigible flirt, Bondlock, But also because secrets always bite you in the arse, Cross Over, Established Relationship, John really should know better than to keep secrets, M/M, Mycroft is a perma-troll, Not only because it's impossible to hide anything from Sherlock, Possessive/Jealous Sherlock is simply the best thing ever, Q is absolutely adorable, Sassy John is one of my favourite kinds of John, Sometimes it's his own fault though, Trying to keep tags as vague as possible so it doesn't ruin the drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 00:40:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix089/pseuds/phoenix089
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the things that John had anticipated when he and Sherlock were called to Buckingham palace for a case, the last thing on John's mind was his past walking - Strutting, really - back into his present. In that instant, though, John would realise that some secrets, no matter how meaningless they may seem, really ought to be told.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Seemingly Insignificant Dirty Little Secret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NavyDream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NavyDream/gifts).



> An early Christmas present that I wrote for my absolutely flawless wifey, [Ile](http://ilegzz.tumblr.com/) ♥♥♥♥
> 
> She loved it, and I hope that you'll be able to enjoy it also

Harbouring a secret when your boyfriend was Sherlock Holmes was probably not the best of ideas, but it was the situation that John was in nevertheless. 

To John, this ‘secret’ was extremely inconsequential, so much so that he hadn’t even realised he hadn’t told Sherlock yet. When he did realise though, John thought that it was such an irrelevant thing he didn’t think it was worth making a point to tell Sherlock, as if it were something that actually _mattered_. And so, John never told him. Not because he was intentionally keeping anything from Sherlock, simply because he didn’t think it would matter.

It had almost come up the very first time that he and Sherlock slept together though, when John admitted that he was not _wholly_ inexperienced when it came to men. Sherlock, much to John’s unexpected relief, simply arched an eyebrow, told him “I know” and continued to lavish kisses down John’s neck, and that was the end of that conversation.

Afterwards, John wondered if he ought to tell Sherlock after all. But, again, decided against it. To make a point of telling Sherlock would imply that this thing had _meaning_ behind it, when the reverse was the truth. And so, John kept it to himself, and his past experience never came up again.

Of all the things he’d anticipated when he and Sherlock were called to Buckingham palace for a job, however, the last thing on John’s mind was his past walking – Strutting, really – back into his present.

John’s foot tapped impatiently against the carpet beneath his feet as Mycroft and Sherlock sat opposite one another – Sherlock glaring at his brother resentfully, and Mycroft glaring back in an attempt to will his brother into submission. John simply rolled his eyes at the two of them - In their late thirties, and still partaking in this absurd rivalry. John had rather hoped that Sherlock’s return from “death” would have put an end to the childish antics, but, apparently, it had been a fools hope.

He sat up rather abruptly at the sound of shoes on the polished floorboards, and cast his eyes in that direction automatically, hoping, _hoping_ this would be the official that would actually give them information on their new job.

At the sight of the person coming towards them, however, John’s breath caught in his throat and he unintentionally pulled in a choked gasp, which drew Sherlock’s attention from his brother, to himself. John rather wished that Sherlock would resume his staring competition with his brother though, because _now_ was not exactly the time that John wanted that exceptional gaze focused on him.

Sherlock’s eyebrows contracted with thought, and then his lips parted. But, before he could make a single sound, the approaching man’s voice cut into the room, snapping Sherlock’s attention to him instead, allowing John a minor relief.

“Holmes, I don’t care what her Majesty has instructed of you, I do _not_ need assistance. Least of all from your ‘Charming’ younger brother.” James Bond declared as he strutted into one of the many waiting rooms of the palace. 

At the sight of 007 in his fine tailored suit, an unexpected warmth fluttered in the pits of John’s stomach, and, for just a moment, he was caught in the memory of impatiently ripping at the buttons of a crisp white shirt as a suit coat fell to the floor behind. The feeling only lasted for a second, but it was enough for John to feel mildly guilty. A feeling that only increased as Sherlock’s thigh brushed against his own, effectively reminding him that his long-time boyfriend was sitting right _next_ to him as he’d been rendered breathless by another man and the memories that came with his presence. 

Heedless to the John’s sudden dilemma, Mycroft sighed and fixed his disapproving frown on Bond, “Don’t be difficult 007. You need Sherlock – Q won’t be enough this time.”

Scowling, Bond’s gaze slipped from Mycroft, to the younger Holmes brother, and from there, his eyes found John. At which point, his eyes widened ever so slightly, and his irritated scowl gave way to a brief fiendish grin. A grin that John could only bite the inside of his lip at.

In the next second, Sherlock tensed beside him, the fingers that had been tapping impatiently stilled, and John realised with alarming clarity that – Yes, he really _should_ have told Sherlock about his past with Bond earlier. A lot earlier, in fact. In the extremely unlikely event that their work with Buckingham Palace, did end up throwing them in Bond’s path. Which, evidently, it had been bound to do eventually.

“John Watson,” Bond acknowledged, clearly surprised, and seemingly pleased, at John’s unexpected presence. “It’s been far too long, my friend,” he said as he deigned to take a seat beside Mycroft, situating himself opposite John, and John wasn’t able to curb the smile his lips curled into.

“That it has - Good to see you’re still in one piece,” he replied, with an amused smirk.

Bond rolled his eyes at the insinuation, and John knew him well enough that he didn’t even need to voice his thoughts – _As if they could ever catch me long enough to injure me_.

The smirk John wore faded as his eyes flicked over to Mycroft, however, and found the elder Holmes watching the interaction between Bond and himself with an arched eyebrow. Beside him, Sherlock had angled himself into the corner of the couch so that he, too, could watch, and as John shifted his gaze over to his partner, he saw that Sherlock’s mouth was pulled into a tight frown, his eyebrows pulled into a displeased wrinkle, and his eyes were blazing as they watched Bond’s easy camaraderie with John.

Internally, John sighed. As soon as they were called to the Palace, John had simply _known_ that this wouldn’t be an enjoyable case. 

“I wasn’t aware the two of you were acquainted,” Mycroft remarked slowly.

Bond chuckled at the statement, either completely heedless, or uncaring, of the tension in the room. “Oh yes. John and I go back years. Helped me out on a mission once, didn’t you John?”

“Saved your arse from being killed, more like it,” John muttered as he scowled.

‘Helped him on a mission’, indeed. A few months after John had been sent to the war, Bond had come barrelling into the warfront, hunting for some political leader, and John? John had been the only one they were willing to spare from the frontlines to help the agent in his mission. Good thing it had been him too, since Bond was considerably reckless, and had taken more than one knife wound on their fortnight-long mission. If not for John … The wounds probably would have become infected and badly scarred. Thanks to John’s training as an army doctor, he managed to keep the scarring to a minimum.

“Fascinating,” Sherlock drawled from his position on the couch, and John was forced to swallow a smile as Mycroft made an extremely exasperated expression, which in turn earned him raised eyebrows from Bond. Subtly, Bond’s head inclined to John’s left, a question clear in his still raised eyebrows.

John’s lips tightened for a moment, and then he looked up to the ceiling – The code that he and Bond had used on their mission coming back to him as if it had been just yesterday. Bond’s eyebrows rose even higher at the response, and John couldn’t stop himself from grinning, raising one shoulder in a shrug.

Abruptly, Sherlock sprang up from the couch and sniffed, “Don’t think the fact that you’ve brought ‘The’ 007 in will change my mind Mycroft. A missing politician? Are your spies really that incompetent?” Then, he paused to give Mycroft one last defiant glare, and Bond an equally unimpressed glare, before adding, “Come on John, we’re leaving.” The words had barely even left his mouth before he was storming from the room, his coat trailing after him like an angry thundercloud.

Sighing, John looked over at Mycroft, and shrugged his shoulders. And then, his eyes slid over to Bond. What he could say though, John had no idea, and so, he simply rose to his feet and began to follow after Sherlock. Before he could go far, though, a hand closed around his wrist.

“John,” Bond said, and John’s eyes automatically flicked to Mycroft, who, he was sure, would be cataloguing every single part of this encounter. Bond, who John was also sure was aware of that fact, grinned mischievously and said, “We should catch up while I’m in town.”

Out in the hallway, Sherlock snarled, “JOHN!” and John nodded his head once before pulling free. Then, with his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets and an irritated scowl on his face, John made his way out of the room and over to Sherlock.

Sherlock waited until John was almost level with him, before narrowing his eyes, and marching off again. In part, John could understand why he might be annoyed, but on the other … Sherlock’s attitude was starting to piss him off too. Which was precisely why John decided not to hurry after Sherlock, and instead amble along, taking his time to appreciate the Palace walls. 

Because he was admiring one particular painting of the Queen, John wasn’t watching as he turned a corner, so the hands that took hold of his shoulders and shoved him into the wall behind took him by surprise. If he was getting mildly annoyed before, the manhandling had certainly been enough for him to glare up into Sherlock’s blue-grey eyes as he held John against the wall, his grip on his shoulders _just_ on the painful side

The two simply glared at one another for a moment, and then Sherlock pursed his lips before breathing, “Your ‘experience’…”

John growled in the back of his throat before snapping, “ _Yes_ , it was Bond, Sherlock. As if you couldn’t tell that from the very moment he walked in the room.”

“When?” Sherlock ground out.

Sighing, John pinched the bridge of his nose and asked, “Does it really -”

“ _When_ , John?”

Sherlock’s grip on John’s shoulders tightened at the words, and John was momentarily taken aback by the way that Sherlock actually looked … Scared. To anybody else, he probably just looked annoyed. But, there was a particular tilt to his eyebrows that made John certain that there was also fear in that expression. The realisation replaced his anger with uncertainty.

“After the mission we were on -” John’s confusion only increased as Sherlock’s death grip on his shoulders loosened at the words. “He’d been in a dire situation and -”

Suddenly, Sherlock grimaced. “Please spare me the details. I asked for when, not why,” and John couldn’t stop himself from chuckling at that, only to grin a few seconds later as a thought occurred to him - A thought that chased away any remaining anger, leaving warmth and _Heaven help me, I love this man_ , in its place.

Taking hold of the nape of Sherlock’s neck, John stretched up until their foreheads were pressed together. “You idiot,” he groaned fondly, “You thought it had been while you were ‘Dead’, didn’t you?”

Although Sherlock huffed with displeasure at the teasing in John’s tone, he still brought his hands up to rest on the curve of John’s back, gently pulling the other man into him. “… Maybe,” he muttered, and John grinned a little wider at the almost-confession. 

They stood like that for a moment, and then Sherlock asked, “What did he ask you in there?” a slight growl to his words.

“If I wanted to shag for old times sake, naturally.” John said as he arched an eyebrow. And then, he began to count – One … Two …

“He _what_?” Sherlock snarled, as his grip around John’s waist tightened. “That damnable agent. He’s as bad as the bloody rumours say, and –”

John couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the reaction, which effectively stopped Sherlock’s rant as he glowered down at John instead. John simply rolled his eyes and breathed, “Jealous git,” a jibe that made Sherlock growl in the back of his throat, even as he tugged John closer.

Sighing, John told him, “He asked me if you and I were involved.”

“Oh, did he now?” Sherlock hummed, and John blew out a deep breath at the vibration against his ear, “And, what did you say?”

“What do you _think_ I told him you idiot?”

In the next moment, Sherlock had pulled back enough that he could arch his eyebrow as he looked at John with a smirk, and John’s lips parted as he ducked his head back down.

Just as Sherlock was close enough that their breath was mixing though, a startled voice hissed, “Oh, bugger, sorry!” and Sherlock sighed as he pulled back, though he kept his arms around John.

“What _is_ it little brother? Don’t you have hacker systems to be working on?” Sherlock snapped at the bespectacled man with unruly black-brown hair who was standing a few doors down the hallway.

John’s mind paused as it registered the words Sherlock had just said. Before he could ask, the man with glasses scowled and huffed,

“ _Lovely_ to see you too Sherlock! I’m looking for 007 actually …” and John tensed as he realised the other man – The Youngest Holmes brother? – was blushing. “We’ve got dinner reservations,” he added in a mutter.

Groaning, John tightened his grip on Sherlock’s coat, just as Sherlock began to snarl, “No! Absolutely not! Mycroft must know about this – What did you do? Bribe him with cake to keep him quiet? The fat moron! I’ll kill him – But first, that 007! First John, and now you?”

The younger Holmes simply rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics, adjusted his glasses, and said to John, “You must be John Watson. I’m the youngest of the Holmes brothers - William Holmes, also known as Q … Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really do have to find 007.” And with that, he pointedly ignored Sherlock’s growls and hissing and strode past, hunting for Bond.

As soon as the younger Holmes was out of sight, Sherlock fixed his glare on John. Just as his eyes narrowed, and his lips parted to say something, John grimaced, growled, “Oh, shut _up_ ,” and pulled Sherlock down into a kiss by his scarf. Whatever Sherlock was going to say, it was lost as he chose to instead push John back into the wall.

Distantly, John wondered if Bond was aware of what he was getting himself into. Dating a Holmes had every possibility of being more dangerous than any assignment he’d been given thus far. But then, he thought as Sherlock bit down on lip, perhaps that was part of the appeal.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I must admit I haven't seen Skyfall (or any of the Bonds for that matter. I know, shame on me) ... But I am absolutely in love with the idea of 00Q ... and also with the idea of Q being a member of the Holmes family. Because I haven't seen the movie though, I don't know if Q's actual name is ever revealed (And Wikipedia was useless) so ... If someone can tell me if it has, that would be fantastic.
> 
> Otherwise, I hope that you enjoyed this as much as my darling did. When she told me about how much she loved the idea of Sherlock getting jealous and possessive because he finds out that Bond and John have a history ... Well, I just couldn't resist the image ♥♥ ~~I'm simply powerless against the thought of Possessive/Jealous Sherlock~~


End file.
